by Carol Ross
Can he stop the one who got away—
from getting away again?
Everyone in her Alaskan town hopes Iris James is back for good. Including Dr. Flynn Ramsey, who stole her heart when they were awkward teenagers. She realizes he’s planning an encore, but a prestigious job in Washington, DC, is calling to her. Only, ever since their kiss at her brother’s wedding, Iris isn’t sure about anything. Except her reignited feelings for Flynn...
“Do you think we can we still be real friends?”
His answer was a stare that made her stomach flip. “What if told you that I don’t want to fake break up?”
“Oh, Flynn,” she quipped, trying to lighten his mood, because did he realize what he was saying here? “Everyone knows fake long-distance relationships are tough.”
“No, Iris, I mean I want to end this stupid charade right now.”
“Flynn, we can’t break up yet. We’re having dinner with your ex-wife and we still have kayaking with my boss tomorrow and...” Her words trailed off as he stepped closer.
Iris froze, her pulse ratcheting up, rocketing into overdrive. Flynn stood before her, strong arms settling on either side of her. His face was only inches from hers. There was no mistaking he was going to kiss her and Iris knew that if he did, this time, he’d claim her heart forever.
Dear Reader,
Growing up in a big family is awesome. Growing up in a big family is awful. Being the youngest is the worst. Being the youngest is the best. Speaking from experience, I can assure you all of the above statements are true. Perspective. It’s a powerful and wonderful thing. It can also be hard and challenging. I’m often amazed at how drastically different my childhood memories are from my sisters and brothers.
Iris James is the youngest in her family, too. Born premature, she had medical problems that made it impossible for her to keep up with her active, athletic siblings. She made up for it in other ways, but it left her a bit removed from the family dynamic. To make matters worse, she grew up in Rankins, a small town in Alaska—a place her entire family adores and embraces almost to the point of worship. Iris doesn’t. Full of painful and awkward childhood memories, she doesn’t like much about the place, except for her old friend Flynn Ramsey. Flynn she likes a little too much.
Now a doctor, Flynn wants only to practice medicine in Rankins, prove to Iris that her dislike of her hometown is unwarranted and show her that he’s the right man for her. It’s just a simple matter of changing her perspective. Which shouldn’t be too difficult, right?
Thanks so much for reading!
Carol
In the Doctor’s Arms
Carol Ross
Carol Ross lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two dogs. She is a graduate of Washington State University. When not writing, or thinking about writing, she enjoys reading, running, hiking, skiing, traveling and making plans for the next adventure to subject her sometimes reluctant but always fun-loving family to. Carol can be contacted at carolrossauthor.com and via Facebook at Facebook.com/carolrossauthor, Twitter, @_carolross, and Instagram, @carolross__.
Books by Carol Ross
Harlequin Heartwarming
Summer at the Shore
Christmas at the Cove
Seasons of Alaska
Bachelor Remedy
A Heartwarming Thanksgiving
“Autumn at Jasper Lake”
A Family Like Hannah’s
If Not for a Bee
A Case for Forgiveness
Mountains Apart
Return of the Blackwell Brothers
The Rancher’s Twins
Visit the Author Profile page at www.Harlequin.com for more titles.
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For Jill, Julie & Tammy.
My fellow founding members of the TJCJ Club. You are my people. Thank you for making my childhood, my memories and my perspective so much fun.
PS: I’m also glad we survived.
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
EPILOGUE
EXCERPT FROM TENNESSEE REUNION BY CAROLYN McSPARREN
CHAPTER ONE
“BERING JUST CALLED. We’ve got a four-party transport showing up in fifteen.”
“Is it an emergency?” Iris James grimaced and glanced up at her brother Tag standing in the doorway of her office. Tag was the owner of Copper Crossing Air Transport, the business where Iris was temporarily employed. In addition to conveying goods, animals and people of just about any shape and size all over the state of Alaska, Copper Crossing was contracted with the hospital in Rankins to handle emergency medical transport. Tag’s fiancée, Ally Mowak, was the hospital liaison in charge of arranging trauma flights. Iris should have heard from Ally by now if that was the case.
“Nope. No rush. It’s for some friends of his. He’s sending you the passenger manifest right now.” Their cousin Bering James owned James Guide & Outfitter Service, a company that provided a variety of excursions to remote wilderness locales. Bering utilized Tag’s services to transport clients.
“Must be some friends,” Iris said, curious now. It was the first week of July, and their cousin was booked solid through the summer months and well into fall. It didn’t matter how wealthy, famous or important, Bering treated all clients with equal respect and consideration. But he always left a little room in his schedule for family and close friends.
“Yep. Very special. He’s guiding this one himself. It’s a group from Seattle, a girls’ trip.”
“A girls’ trip? Doesn’t anyone go to the spa around here?” she joked. “Or take in a movie or a show?” Of course, there wasn’t a spa within miles and miles of Rankins, Alaska. Or a movie theater for that matter. She missed Washington, DC. With any luck, she’d be back there soon, with a “good riddance” to Rankins. This place might be her hometown, but it was far from her ideal.
Tag chuckled. “Ally and I go to the movies.”
Iris gave him a playful glare. “Not everyone has their own fleet of planes to pick up and fly their fiancée to a movie whenever the mood strikes.”
“I know. You should get one. It’s very cool.”
Iris had to agree. It was pretty cool. She loved airplanes and she enjoyed working around them and for her brother. Okay, so there were a select few things she’d miss about the town—her family, her job, her friend Flynn Ramsey. Well, she’d sort of miss Flynn. Probably. But her feelings for Flynn were complex and best left hidden, deep in her emotional well. Inconveniently, Iris was a bridesmaid in Tag and Ally’s upcoming wedding and Flynn was the man of honor. In typical small-town USA fashion, Flynn happened to be Ally’s best friend. Thus, all this wedding business meant spending undue time with Flynn, where said emotional well kept getting deeper, those feelings more difficult to ignore.
Her email pinged with a m
essage from Bering. “Got it,” she said and hit Print.
Tag ducked back out and jogged across the tarmac toward the hangar, presumably to get the plane ready.
Iris took the paper from the printer tray and glanced at the four names listed—Anne Specter, Chloe Bennet, Kayleen Carlisle, and Summer Davis. What in the world would possess a group of women to spend a weekend fishing and hiking in the wilds of Alaska? Then again, why would anyone—man, woman, child, visiting space alien—knowingly fly directly away from the safety and comforts of everyday living and into the bush?
Unlike the other members of her large family, and pretty much the rest of the town, Iris didn’t connect with most things quintessentially “Alaskan.” Camping, fishing, clam-digging, hiking, hunting, kayaking? No, thank you. Electricity was invented so the entire human race didn’t have to camp anymore. She didn’t care for seafood. She abhorred blisters, was terrified of bears and avoided frigid water. And then there were the mosquitoes. Let’s just say bug repellent was her signature scent by necessity. Add in her inherent lack of coordination and things got ugly.
All of this was a good reminder of how much she didn’t fit in here. She never had.
It was bad enough to be the odd one out in her own family, where people loved her, but school had been its own special kind of torment. Skinny, awkward, homely, ugly, weird, nerd—yep, she’d been called all of those and worse. Ugh. Why was she thinking about this? She’d thought those days were behind her. And they were. Of course they were. For the most part.
Since going away to college seven years ago, her visits home had been infrequent—the longest one had lasted a week. She’d fly in, visit her mom and dad, brothers and sisters, while doing her best to avoid the general population of Rankins, and then fly back to school.
In the supply room, she stopped to check the passenger list for allergies or other health concerns. She did a double take as she noted the ages of the women—73, 77, 74, 79. Iris felt her heart sink. She hoped this wasn’t one of those cases where one of the ladies was terminally ill and fulfilling a bucket-list thing. Was that why Tag had called them special?
Approximately twelve minutes later, Iris had all the normal items they handed out to passengers—water, snacks, airsick bags, earplugs, safety information. Even though Bering hadn’t requested them of her, she had a few extras waiting in the wings, including a wheelchair and a walker in case anyone needed assistance boarding. She wondered if she should have secured some insulin or possibly a nitro pill. Since Bering had arranged the trip personally, surely he’d be aware of any medical issues. Still, flying in small planes was no joke. If these women weren’t prepared, she’d make sure they were.
Iris headed outside to see a blue full-size pickup pulling into the far edge of the parking lot. It stopped in the area designated for “long-term” vehicle stays. Four people climbed out. Squinting toward the group, Iris watched them all nimbly move around to the back of the vehicle. One of them let down the tailgate, another hopped into the bed like a woman at least two decades younger than the manifest showed and began handing down packs and gear. Someone else jogged to the front passenger door, rummaged around and then returned to the rear of the vehicle. This couldn’t be the right group, could it? Iris checked the paper wondering if the number 7 was supposed to be a 5 or even a 4? Regardless, she reminded herself, she needed to do her job.
She hurried over to lend a hand, but the foursome was already headed in her direction, packs hoisted and draped over their shoulders. Talking, laughing, striding confidently forward, they radiated positive energy. Iris found herself smiling as they approached.
An athletic-looking woman wearing green cargo pants and a pink, long-sleeved Henley beneath a tan fishing vest greeted her. “Hey! You must be Iris.” She wore a gray bucket hat decorated with an assortment of fishing flies.
“Yes, hi! You must be Bering’s friends?”
“Yep, that’s us. I’m Anne. Lovely to meet you.” Gesturing to her right, she introduced the rest of the group, all similarly outfitted. “This is Chloe, Kayleen and Summer.”
As they chatted, Iris wondered if it would even be possible to feel like a bigger ninny that she did. By “special,” her brother had clearly meant “awesome.” He could have given her a heads-up. She threw up a silent thank-you that she hadn’t actually brought out the walker. These women were all energetic, enthusiastic and prepared. Not to mention smart and funny.
Anne, she learned, was an English professor, Chloe a doctor, Kayleen a medical researcher and Summer a restaurateur. Chloe and Kayleen were both semiretired while Summer claimed to be “mostly” retired. Although, as the owner of six restaurants, Iris imagined that was an exaggeration. Anne proclaimed that she would work forever. After ten minutes in their company, Iris wanted to hang out with them forever. Albeit without the backpacking, fishing, bear-and-mosquito-laden activities.
“Bering said you’re only here for the summer, Iris. What do you do?” Chloe asked.
“Well, I just got my PhD in economics. I’m hoping to get a job in my field soon. Not that I don’t love working here for my brother.”
“Academia?” Anne asked hopefully.
“Not at this point, although I do enjoy teaching. My dream job is to work at a think tank. I’ve sent my résumé to a few in the DC area.” Iris didn’t add that her sights were set ultimately on The Frieze Group, one of the most prestigious in the country. They weren’t currently hiring but that hadn’t stopped her from sending in her résumé. She’d even turned down a few offers from other firms in the preceding weeks, hoping to hear from the prized think tank. Her self-imposed deadline was Tag and Ally’s rapidly approaching wedding. After that, she’d take the best offer that came her way.
Tag joined them.
“Ladies, welcome! I’m so excited to see you all again.”
“Tag, hi!” Anne gushed and gave him a hug. The other women followed suit.
After a few minutes of catching up, Anne asked, “How’s Hazel? Last post I saw she was in Nepal.”
Iris smiled at the mention of her fellow triplet sister. Their brother Seth rounded out the trio and was currently traveling with Hazel. “You know Hazel?”
“Yes, that’s how we met Bering. Five years ago, the four of us were climbing Kilimanjaro and Hazel was in our group. Talk turned to fly-fishing and she hooked us up with Bering. We’ve been back every year since.”
Hazel, in direct opposition to Iris, was an avid adventurer. As a travel writer and blogger, she’d even managed to make it her profession.
“She’s great,” Iris said, answering the original enquiry. “She has been in Nepal with our brother Seth. They’re due home tomorrow. I’m sure Hazel will have a post ready to launch.” Hazel’s blog had acquired a huge following.
“Fabulous! Can’t wait to read it.”
Iris enjoyed reading about her sister’s adventures, too, even though she worried incessantly about her safety.
Tag said, “Bering told me you ladies have been backpacking in Denali?”
“We were,” Anne answered. “Chloe had never hiked the Mount Eielson loop and none of us had done Kesugi Ridge Trail, so we conquered them both in addition to some of our old haunts. And since it’s my birthday trip, we decided to squeeze in some fly-fishing at the end. We got lucky with the weather and finished Denali a little quicker than we anticipated, so I called Bering and here we are. Now we get two extra days fly-fishing.”
“That’s great,” Tag said.
“So,” Kayleen said, grinning at Tag, “you gonna let me land that plane of yours?”
Tag peered at her carefully and Iris could see that he was trying not to grin. “You did not,” he said.
“Oh, yes I did.”
“It’s your own fault, Tag,” Chloe said. “You threw it down. We all heard it.”
Iris must have looked confused because Anne explained, “Last summe
r when we were here, Tag issued Kayleen a challenge. He told her if she got her pilot’s license he’d let her land his plane.”
“What?” Iris gaped at the woman.
Summer told the story. “We had some bad weather and the landing was a little rough, to say the least. We were all holding our collective breath. Tag got us on the ground with some bumps. After the plane came to a stop we were all quiet for a long moment, thanking our lucky stars and our skilled pilot. Finally, Kayleen says, ‘Tag, what was up with that landing? Did you just get your license yesterday?’ Well, of course, we all screamed with laughter.” Summer flipped a thumb toward Tag. “But your brother here made the mistake of responding with ‘Kayleen, you go get your license and next year I’ll let you show me how to land this plane.’”
Chloe chimed in, “He didn’t realize whom he was speaking to.”
Iris gaped at Kayleen, her new idol. “So, just like that, you decided to get your pilot’s license?” She added a finger snap. Iris wanted to also point out that Kayleen was in her seventies, but that would be obvious and possibly ageist, even though she didn’t mean it that way. She felt nothing but mad respect for the woman. For all four of them.
“Well, none of us have time to wait, do we? Nailed my solo flight on my seventy-fourth birthday.”
“We were all cheering from the runway,” Summer said. “It was so exciting. Now we go flying almost every week.”
“Wow,” Iris said. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Kayleen grinned. “It was pretty amazing.”
“I can’t imagine how thrilling that must have been. And...challenging.”
Kayleen seemed to be studying her now, something that could only be described as mischief lighting her expression. “Don’t let your brother fool you, it’s not as tricky as it looks.” Planting her hands on her hips, she turned toward Tag. “You should make the same offer to your sister.” To Iris, she said, “What do you say, Iris? Are you up for it?”
“Oh, no. I’m not...” She was about to say “interested in flying,” but that wasn’t quite accurate. “I couldn’t...” It had more to do with how that daredevil behavior wasn’t in her makeup. Her siblings had gotten those genes. Although piloting wasn’t exactly reckless, it was a learned skill. Still, it was a terrifying one, and Iris avoided anything terrifying when at all possible.